


Need Some Help?

by FortuneCookie001



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Clubbing, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Drinking, Drinking to Forget, Drunk Keith (Voltron), First Impressions, Gay Keith (Voltron), Insecure Lance (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Multi, My First AO3 Post, My First Fanfic, My First Voltron: Legendary Defender Fanfic, My First Work in This Fandom, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sharing a Bed, Shiro saves Klance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:48:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25077883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FortuneCookie001/pseuds/FortuneCookie001
Summary: "Person A is drunk and having a hard time defending themselves so Person B rushes in and fakes being their SO to get them out of it"***********While on a routine club trip, Lance gets stuck as designated driver. Mopping over his soberness leads him to seeing a familiar face; Nyma's Face. Realizing she is here to find her next victim, Lance steps up to save the poor guy. It would be much easier if the mystery man wasn't helplessly drunk and incredibly good looking...Keith wakes up with a raging headache and the vague memory of a very touchy woman. What throws him off is the warmth laying beside him and the incredibly comfortable bed. Realizing the heat is a person, Keith scrambles to remember what happened. He comes to a rushed conclusion; 'I somehow managed a one-night-stand with a super hot guy that is exactly my type' How is he going to fix this?
Relationships: Hunk/Shay (Voltron), James Griffin/Keith (Voltron), James Griffin/Ryan Kinkade, Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron), Lance/Nyma (Voltron)
Comments: 53
Kudos: 205





	1. Lance

**Author's Note:**

> <3 Heyyo! Good morning, good afternoon, or good night! <3
> 
> I hope you're having a perfectly wonderful day and that my story will only make it better!
> 
> (I do not own any of the characters or themes related to Voltron)
> 
> If it isn't obvious enough- this is the first time I've shared my stories online. That doesn't not mean I want your pity, just your understanding and patience. Go ahead and rip me apart, and go crazy with criticism, it helps a bunch, and a few mistakes being pointed out won't hurt me. Pease just be sure to tell me what I did right also!
> 
> I was on a plane ride when I saw this prompt. I started writing it almost immediately! I honestly don't have much of a plan for this, but I would like to see what you all think of it. If people enjoy this and let me know in the comments, I will make sure to get an update out soon! 
> 
> <3 Thanks for choosing to read my story, and I hope it lives up to you're expectations! <3

A smug smile crossed his lips as a gorgeous woman with white hair followed his friends through the door he held open. Now that Pidge was of the legal drinking age they made sure that the group went to the club at least once a month. Club Galra was a decent place. It had a few booths around the edges, a smooth dance floor, a huge DJ booth, a small stage, and a sweet bar. 

The trio landed in their usual booth in the corner and Pidge was quick to speak, “There’s no way I’m staying sober tonight, so you two rock-paper-scissors for driver.” When Lance gasped they just shrugged and headed towards the bar. He scowled at Hunk before raising and lowering his fist in time with the Samoan. “Rock. Paper. Scissors. Shoot!” they said in unison. Both of them had closed their eyes, and Lance slowly opened one eye after the other. 

“C’mon!” His bottom lip stuck out and he lowered his hand that had been posing as ‘paper’, “I drove last time!”

Hunk patted his shoulder and walked towards the stage to find his girlfriend, “Sorry man, but it worked out for the best, Shay’s here today.” He left with a wink and Lance groaned.  _ What good was the club if you couldn’t get wasted and possibly laid?! _

Lance looked around, hoping to find the woman from earlier. He spotted her white hair behind the bar.  _ A barista! Not bad!  _ He sauntered towards the bar as casually as possible and found a seat next to Pidge. They rolled their eyes and turned to him. 

Before he could open his mouth she jabbed his arm, “Her name is Allura. We’ve been talking for a while. She’s way out of your league so don’t even try.” Their smile grew even more at the incredulous look on Lance’s face. 

“What- I-” He shook his head and glared at her, glancing at the woman who’s name is apparently Allura, “Okay that was rude Pidge.” He folded his arms and started to pout again. Everything about this night sucked.

Lance tailed Pidge for a while but ended up just sitting at the bar sipping on water. His eyes caught a glimpse of a very familiar figure and he had to grip the counter to keep from falling.  _ Nyma. _ His ex sunk into a seat beside a quiet guy with black hair that's been sitting at the end of the bar for a while. Lance had seen the guy come in here all upset and down multiple shots and whiskey glasses. A spark of jealousy lit in his chest.  _ What’s so special about him?  _ He forced the thoughts away and turned so he could pout in peace. 

A few minutes later Lance heard a slow dance start and he spun around in time to see a flustered Hunk being dragged onto the dance floor by Shay. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight. After they got settled into the rhythm Lance planned on going back to brooding over his water, but his attention flickered over Nyma, who was still talking with dunk emo dude. The jealousy was replaced with pity.

The guy was ramrod stiff and was staring intently at his nearly empty cup while Nyma seemed to be purring sweet nothings into his ear. Nyma had an arm draped over his shoulder and was twisting his shoulder-length hair in her fingers. 

For some reason, this combination of events lit a fire under Lance. With determination filling his chest, he looked around, frantically searching for a way to save this guy.

Lance watched for a few moments longer to gather what he could from the scene. The guy was wearing a black leather biking jacket over a red tee. The shirt had fine print in the middle that Lance had to squint to read; “ _ Warning: I am gay and brooding. Distance is advised if you want to keep all your limbs intact.”  _ Lance smirked. That made this exponentially easier.

In true Lance fashion, he threw himself into the situation without much thought. He wiggled out of his seat and into the bathroom. Thankfully he didn't have to fake anything because he had already needed to go. He sauntered back into the room and scanned the area, Hunk and Shay were still dancing, Pidge was destroying a guy in an arm wrestle, and Allura was still behind the bar where the dude had a death grip on his chair as if he might fall off any moment. The guy was pretty plastered, so that could be the case. Lance smiled fondly as he approached the man's Nyma-less side. He took the glass out of his hand as he was about to take a sip, “I think you've had enough already babe.” He mused with a slight tilt of his head. 

Nyma slid her arm off the man's shoulders but he just turned to stare oddly at Lance, “What ‘r you-” He froze to cover his mouth. The blonde girl to his side jumped away, realizing he was going to throw up. He hastily ignored the satisfaction of seeing her recoil to assist the poor guy.

Lance ran to his side and helped him up. Together they exited out the back door to a common vomit spot- the dumpster. As they walked he whispered words of encouragement and care. The guy started to aggressively shrug his jacket off, and Lance helped him out of it. As he folded it and draped it over his shoulder, he noticed sharpie marks on its tag. While the man hobbled to the dumpster and started to dry heave, Lance read the inscription on the tag. “ _ Shiro 480-999-0990”  _

He smiled to himself before helping to hold the man's hair out of his way.  _ Who even has a mullet anymore?  _ Lance rubbed circles on his back and stayed quiet until he seemed finished. 

“Hey, are you Shiro?” He said softly. The man's violet gaze shot up to meet Lance's ocean eyes. He sucked in a tight breath. He hadn't been prepared for that. That being the overwhelmingly gorgeous eyes looking back at him.

Lance pulled himself together in time to hear the last of the man's slurred sentence, “-s my brother. Wher's he?” Lance’s grip on his shoulders tightened when he started to tremble, looking around frantically. 

“Hey! Hey! It's okay! Calm down.” Lance directed the man over to the steps by the Club door when he noticed his anxiety peaking, “deep breaths okay? Ready? In. Out. In. Out. In…” His voice died in his throat when the man's panicked gaze started to calm.

Quickly coming back to reality he looked down to noticed their hands intertwined over his bent knee. He stumbled backward and stood up, looking down at the sad frown now covering the man's face. 

“W-what’s your name?” He managed to stutter. 

  
  



	2. Keith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith's POV
> 
> Waking up in a strangers house with a hangover is weird enough, but add Lance to the mix and this is what you get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 Good morning, good afternoon, or good evening! <3
> 
> (I do not own any characters or themes related to Voltron)
> 
> I hope your day is spectacular! Thank you all for showing an interest! I hope this chapter suffices!
> 
> I apologize for how short it is, but I don't want to burn myself out, and I know I can update more often if I write shorter chapters.
> 
> <3 Please enjoy! <3

A gentle throbbing echoed in Keith’s consciousness. His brows furrowed as he tried to remember how he got home and when he changed the sheets. The fluffy blanket he was curled in definitely wasn’t on his bed yesterday.

Keith forced his eyelids closed even further when a soft murmuring disturbed his sleep.

“C’mon man, I can’t drive you if you aren’t ready soon.”

“I know, but look at him. I don’t want to wake him up.” Keith shuddered. This voice was directly behind him. It was rough and tired. They seemed to have just barely woken up-

Keith shifted experimentally, and both of the speakers quieted. While he moved he realized the person behind him wasn’t just behind him, oh no, he was spooning him. Keith’s eyes shot open and he scrambled to sit up.

In front of him was a tan, lanky, and unfairly attractive man laying halfway under the sheets. His smile was almost blinding, and forced Keith to look away. He noticed a larger man standing in the door. He pushed off the doorframe and chuckled, turning with a wave. “Breakfast is on the counter. Don’t be late, Coran will only let you off so many times.”

Keith looked back to the man beside him, who was chuckling too, “Yeah yeah, I’ll be there soon.” He turned his attention to Keith, “Good morning niño lindo. How’d you sleep?”

Keith blinked once. Twice. Then a loud squawk of confusion erupted from his throat. "Where am I? Who are you? What happened? When di-” Before he could continue his stream of enraged confusion the other man threw his arms up, his smile wiped clean off his face.

"Oh shoot, I'm sorry! You probably forgot what happened. Okay well, I'm Lance and I sorta helped you out at the club yesterday. You see, I was there with my friends and then I saw this girl who also happened to be my ex but that doesn’t matter, actually maybe it does. She was sitting with-" 

Keith shook his head, which only made it itch with indignation. "Stop. You talk too much." The other man only smirked at the comment.

His poor brain was in overdrive. Too much. That's what this was . Way too much. Hot guy. Bright lights. Fuzzy blanket. Citrus smell. Dry mouth. No pants. Wait what? He gently lifted the covers only to see his own pale legs beside long tan ones. He lifted his gaze to meet the blue eyes staring back at him.

Lance, that was his name right? The High Mighty Gods must have been smiling down on Keith because he was half naked in a bed with a very lovely looking man. Keith racked his brain to remember what happened the night before. Lance seemed to notice because he smiled kindly and reached out to place his hand on Keith's shoulder. "Hey man let's get you some water and a nice shower, then I can explain everything.” Embarrassment must have been clearly written on his face because Lance barked out a laugh. "Awe man, you're too cute. C'mon let’s go."

Lance slid out of the bed and helped Keith up. Heat pooled in his cheeks as he stood in the middle of the bedroom in nothing but his boxers and t-shirt. Lance scurried out of the room only to return moments later with an armful of clothes and a towel. Keith was then dragged into the bathroom for a quick tour on how to work the faucet.

The taller man started to ramble on about how he's sure it was one of his nephews who must have jammed the shower because now they had to wack, tug, and fight the knobs in order to start the water. Keith was only half listening because in his tired and hungover state the tan skin poking out from under Lance's pajamas was way too distracting.

He nodded absentmindedly when he heard a question being asked, not knowing what he was agreeing too. Lance skipped out of the bathroom leaving Keith to figure out the shower mechanics. Darn those freakishly long limbs that had to distract Keith from the instructions he was given.

It took him a few tries, but eventually Keith was able to relax under the warm spray of water falling from the shower head. In the safe confines of solitude, Keith could assess the damages of the night. He acknowledged the hangover symptoms begrudgingly and searched his mind for a memory of the previous day.

-

Keith stared blankly at his phone standing rigid in the middle of the sidewalk. He read the message over more than enough time to commit it to memory.

 _'Hey we need to talk. This isn’t working out. I found someone that actually has time for me, so I don't need you dragging me down anymore.'_ Is this a breakup? Keith had asked innocently, hoping this was just a sick nightmare, _'Yes, I'm breaking up with you. You aren't welcome in the shop anymore. The paperwork will be sent to your house and with your pay for the week. I’m moving in with Ryan so the apartment’s all yours._ ' Was that it? Two years of devotion and sacrifice down the drain in a few text messages? Keith's world was crumbling right in front of his eyes. He had let down his walls, lowered all the weapons guarding his heart. All those defenses that were to make sure no one had this kind of power over him but somehow here he was. James had found someone else. Someone better. He was being replaced, and there was nothing he could do about it.

He shakily called Shiro as he rushed back to his apartment, reaching out for comfort from the only person he could rely on anymore. A numbing sadness pooled in his stomach, but Shiro promised he'd drive all night and be at his side by the next afternoon. He just had to hold on till then... Hold on... So how else would he hold on than going and drowning himself in alcohol at the nearby club?

Keith forced the tears away as he entered Club Galra and added drink after drink to his tab. He kept drinking, hoping he could forget. He was finally hitting the peak, a few more drinks and he would be blissfully unaware of his sad reality. But no, someone had stopped him, taken his drink away. The words were the last clear thing he could remember, "I think you've had enough already babe." Had James come back? Was he apologizing? Everything was going to go back to normal? It would be okay? A depressing hope flitted in his chest as he looked to the captor of his drink.

He was met with soft blue eyes. A stark contrast from James' scornful gaze. Keith let go of his anger, hoping to get lost in that peaceful gaze. But his stomach had other plans.

-

Keith scrubbed the crusted grime of sweat and tears off of his body as he fought to remember what happened after Lance showed up. Why was he half naked in his room but without the satasfying ache he usually bore post-sex? No, this wasn't a one-night-stand trying to desperately replace James, was Lance just taking care of him? People aren’t that nice, had he been kidnapped? He jumped when there was a gentle knock at the door. 

"You okay in there?" Lance called through the door.

Keith grunted and yelled back, "Yeah give me a second." before spending a few minutes trying to jam the knob back in place so the water would stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 Thank you for reading! <3
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of it! Constructive criticism is very welcome and encouraged. Go ahead and rip me apart, go crazy with criticism, it helps a bunch, and a few mistakes being pointed out won't hurt me. Pease just be sure to tell me what I did right also!
> 
> I honestly don't have much of a plan for this, but I would like to see what you all think of it. If people enjoy this and let me know in the comments, I will make sure to get an update out soon if people are interested! 
> 
> <3 Have an amazing day! <3


	3. Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance gets a certain raven-haired boy stuck on his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 Good morning, good afternoon, or good evening <3
> 
> I hope your day is fabulous! Please enjoy!
> 
> I love hearing from you in the comments!
> 
> I apologize for taking so long for this update. I've been working on this story on and off for a few days and with the rest of my responsibilities, it became hard to find inspiration. If you don't mind, I'd love to hear how you deal with writing ruts! 
> 
> <3 Enjoy! <3

Lance worried with his lip and stared at the closed door. Steam was pooling out from underneath it while thoughts raged rampant in Lance's mind.  _ He seemed so out of it. What if he passed out? What if he thinks I kidnapped him? Oh no. He probably thinks I’m some creepy predator. Why did I have to offer him a shower? Strangers don’t use each other’s showers. He's not a stranger to me but I’m a stranger to him. What if he tries to climb out the window? _ During his downpour of thoughts, Lance didn’t realize he was now standing inches from the door, knocking softly.

"You okay in there?" He called without his mind’s full consent. The fear eating away at his stomach began gnawing at his throat when there wasn’t a response. 

Keith's reply was barely audible over the rushing water, “Yeah give me a second.” Lance released the breath he had trapped in his lungs. He busied himself with getting dressed and slowly wandered toward the kitchen.

By the time the shower turned off, Lance had finished plating the pancakes. He lifted his head in time to see Keith walk through the doorway. And boy did that do things. The shorter man was already attractive, but Lance's little bi heart couldn’t handle this much so early in the morning.

Gorgeous violet eyes were staring at the floor, a nervous caution lingering behind them. His black hair was the tiniest bit curly and hung damp above his shoulders. Lance recognized the clothes as his own but his heartbeat still hiccupped. There was a large expanse of pale skin violating Lance's eyes because of the black tank top clinging to Keith’s skin. The gray sweatpants were laying loosely around Keith’s hips, seemingly in danger of falling, not that Lance would mind-

After a perfectly normal amount of gawking Lance blurted, "Hunk made pancakes." Keith finally looked up enough to see the plate set out for him. Lance motioned to the island bartop, and the other sat after hesitating only a moment.

His mouth opened, but no words came out. This repeated an embarrassing amount of times before he gave up. He frowned noticing Keith’s eyes were squinted beneath the lights. Lance gave himself a mental facepalm before rushing to find a cup. Ignoring the guilt in his stomach, Lance handed the glass of water over to his guest, a nervous smile infecting his face, “Would you like some painkillers?”

He watched Keith nod mutely and mumble something that sounded like a ‘thanks’. Lance bit his lip and spun around, searching for said pills. His smile was fighting to grow at the sheer cuteness of this guy. He received another soft thank you before the real awkwardness set in. 

The silence was eating away at Lance. Memories of crowded meal times and boisterous laughter made his stomach churn (not enough that he couldn’t eat Hunk’s pancakes mind you). Lance swallowed down a bite of his blessedly warm and fluffy pancake, before searching for a way to go about this. He frowned at his own hesitance and decided to just let himself loose, opening the floodgates leading to his vocal cords. 

“I guess I owe you an explanation.” He started carefully. Keith tilted his head up from his position leaning slightly over his plate. Violet eyes met his from under a curtain of black hair. Before his thoughts could voice themselves he said, a little louder than necessary, “What’s the last thing you can remember?” Keith didn’t look like he was going to respond so he scrambled for more words, “Tell me, then I’ll know where to start my epic tale.”

Lance’s theatrics went unnoticed when Keith looked back down at his plate, creases forming between his brows. Lance hated the tension shrowding Keith’s features and hastily moved his gaze before he did something stupid. The lights glinted off the metal fork in Keith’s grasp.

Lance expected a tight white-knuckled grip to be on the utensil. Instead, there were pale fingers curled lightly around the object, as if it would be rude to strengthen his grip. With a gentle feline-like grace, he lifted it to his lips. The movement felt tantalizingly slow, but Lance’s attention never waned. The fork sat softly in his hand after depositing the food and Keith balanced it over two of his fingers before his voice broke the trance.

“I remember someone took my drink, and then I was sick. Everything after that is a blur” he shrugged and Lance looked genuinely shocked. 

Keith lifted an eyebrow but Lance shook his head, “I thought you were more sober than that,” Or is it soberer? Lance's mind had been quick to wonder. At Keith’s nervous gaze he decided to actually do what he set out to, “Okay well I went to the club with some friends…” 

Lance explained the night with clarity and never skipped out on any details, except for maybe how cute he thought Keith was. He recounted taking him outside and calling the number on his jacket. Keith looked absolutely appalled when Lance mentioned how desperate he had been to see his brother, which ended in their call switching to a video chat. Sifting through the minute details, Lance continued to tell Keith about the drive home. The poor guy was embarrassed enough, so Lance skipped the part about Keith trying to hug him while he drove. Lance paused, he had no idea how to describe what happened next in a nice way. Keith seemed to understand his silence because he stood, “I’m sorry for all the trouble,” he ran a hand over his face, “What did Shiro tell you?” 

Lance searched the other man’s gaze for any clue as to what that question actually meant. The expertly hidden worry wasn’t too hard to pick up, but there was something else there. Something more vulnerable. Lance ignored the thought for Keith’s benefit, “Not much, just your name, and that something sucky happened,” He shrugged, “I was given strict instructions to bring you to my house and keep an eye on ya until Shiro could pick you up.” 

“Don’t you have to work?” Keith said, looking for an out.

“Yeah, but boss man Coran won’t be too mad if I’m late for a good cause.” 

“Could I just… go?” He replied but masked his hope. Lance looked over his own cup of water to see Keith pointing his thumb towards the door.

“You wanna go home?” he wondered out loud, not understanding the man’s possible discomfort at hanging around a stranger's house. Keith nodded. Lance stood, slinging his bag over his shoulder and double-checking his pockets. Finally, he handed his unlocked phone to the confused man.

“Put your address in,” at the obvious apprehension he explained with a sigh, “I’ll drop you off at your place before I head to work.” Keith raised skeptical eyes to meet his. Lance groaned, “It’s not that hard dude. I’ll just tell your brother I took you home. Let's go!” He was already bounding out the door, “I’m probably missing all the cute  _ chicas _ !”

-

Work was boring at best. Lance was whirring around the kitchen to fill any gaps made by lazy coworkers. When he was able to escape the chaos of the back-room he sped off to wait over his designated tables. There was a therapeutic flow about the system. Getting lost in the dance between tables and soft banter with patrons. Expertly carrying platters and flashing his shining grin. It wasn’t until he started his time at the dishes that his trance stuttered to a halt.

“Morning buddy.” He said habitually to the comforting smile of his best friend. They worked seamlessly beside each other, with practiced ease. Lance started the powerwasher and turned to his roommate for the few minutes he had. 

He was met with a gentle question, “How’d things go with Coran?” 

“It was great! He loved my tragic story of the random dude at the bar!” He thought he hid his lie well with a flashy smile and waving hands but Hunk just frowned. ”Okay well maybe he was a little upset.” Lance was rubbing his neck and tentatively made eye contact.

Hunk looked like he was still waiting, so Lance relented, “I was told to take some of Rolo’s shifts…” His friend looked sympathetic but Lance waved him off, “It’s no big deal! I probably would have taken it anyways.”

Hunk seemed skeptical but dropped the topic in favor of another question, “What happened with Keith?” 

Lance’s explanation was rushed, a new hire hurriedly taking his place by the sink. He needed to fill in for a late coworker. With Keith fresh on his mind, Lance found himself searching for his purple gaze. He was confused by the disappointment obvious in his chest. He had double and triple checked that random guy with a leather jacket wasn’t Keith, so why did he hope that it was? 

His attention was stolen by the insistent buzz of his phone. On his way to clock out, he checked the notification.

**From Shiro to Loverboy**

_ Thank you again for watching out for my brother. I’m sorry you had to see him like that. I got to Keith’s place not long after you dropped him off. He’s doing much better, thanks to you. I hope we can meet properly some time. _

**To Shiro from Loverboy**

_ No thanks needed, I was just helping out :) Please tell me if there's anything else I can do. _

He hit send, smiling at the sad understanding that while Shiro meant well, Lance was probably just a fleeting presence in their life. He had done a good thing, helped a stranger. Now he needed to forget and move on. Easier said than done he reminded himself when his heart stopped for the hundredth time tonight because he caught a glimpse of black hair.

  
  



	4. Keith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith tries to cope with his recently lost relationship with James and deal with the real life consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 Good morning, good afternoon, or good evening <3
> 
> I hope you're having a wonderful quarantine and school is treating you well. 
> 
> I apologize for taking so long on this update. I had some things to deal with in terms of friends and school, so I put this chapter off for a while. When I finally got to writing it I was pretty unhappy with it. I'm finally out here posting it because my dear friend (who doesn't have an account yet, but I will link them as my beta soon) gave me confidence in this chapter. 
> 
> WARNING - This is a sad chapter with some silly moments. There is mentions of anxiety and an anxiety attack, if you aren't comfortable with this, it starts with "It was definitely anger..." and ends at, "Job hunting was awful."
> 
> <3 Thank you for reading and please enjoy <3

A rough and anguished groan forced itself out of Keith. The sound filled the room, seeping into every nook and cranny. The atmosphere grew heavy as the sound drew on, the deep whine continuing on with no attempt to stop. When the small living area couldn’t hold the groaning in any longer it snaked its way through the entry leading to the kitchen.

Unfortunately, humans need to breathe, so the sound came to an abrupt halt. Keith drew in a large breath and waited. A man with a scar across his nose stepped into the room and before any words could pass his lips, Keith was releasing another long and frustrated groan. The man chuckled.

“Oh good. I thought you died.” He caught the pillow that was flung at him, chuckling still. “Calm down ya grump and move over.” Keith was unceremoniously shoved to the side as Shiro plopped down beside him on the couch.

Keith only glared at him in response, “What’s got you all hot and bothered?” He moved his prosthetic arm vaguely in the direction of the emo mass beside him. “Was Lance really that bad? He seemed nice when we called but looks can be decei-”

“That’s the problem, Shiro!” Keith’s arms flailed in the air and he scowled at his adoptive brother, “Why did he have to be so cute and nice?” His voice lowered while gloveless hands raked over his face. Keith graciously ignored the knowing smirk growing on Shiro’s face. “Like no? He couldn’t have just been nice, nope, he had to be some stupidly hot guy with a stupid cute smile and stupid blue eyes, and of course, he was stupidly perfect at taking care of me!” 

Shiro opened his mouth, a smirk playing with the corners of his lips, but Keith cut him off, “A stranger! I was a complete stranger! But he took me to his house! How is he so stupid! I could have been like, a serial killer!” His emotions for the boy started to boil over. And how does Keith deal with emotions? He doesn’t. He took a deep breath, laying his head in his hands. 

Behind closed lids, fleeting memories of reassuring smiles, worried glances, and honest laughter all warmed his stomach. Each flutter reminding him of two beautiful blue eyes. This warmth was foreign. It was new and different. And if Keith had learned anything in his life, it’s that new is always bad. It always makes things worse. New is what brought James into his life, and look where that got him. So instead he diagnosed this warmth as the only other heated feeling he knew. 

Anger. Keith was angry he had gone to the bar. Angry, his brooding got interrupted. Angry that someone had thought he needed help. Angry his brother didn’t get here sooner. Angry at Lance. Angry at James. Angry at Shiro. And so so angry at himself.

It was definitely anger that caused the lump in his throat. His fists tightened, pulling at the strands of hair at his fingertips. The pinpricks of discomfort in his scalp did nothing to break through his spiral. He felt the moment his crappy AC turned off and he was plunged into a freezing bucket of ice. He couldn’t hear Shiro anymore. He was shivering under his skin, the warbled sounds of Shiro’s voice made his limbs all the more numb. 

He could see James’ disappointed frown. Could feel the hate in those short texts. James had given him everything. They had a home together in this apartment. He was given a job at ‘Griffin’s Repair Shop’. A family business that he was invited into because they were family. Family isn’t supposed to push you away, right? But what does Keith know about family? He’d never had one.

Reality felt even colder than his already frozen legs. He would need a new apartment. He couldn’t pay for this place himself. He was fired. He needed a new job. He was back where he started. Alone. With nothing.

A searing heat melted through his frozen shell. Keith looked up and saw a hand resting on his shoulder. The numbness started to fall away. The biting fear of his future paused in its attack. When he lifted his eyes to the person holding him out of anxiety’s reach, he was met with a smile. 

No. He wasn’t alone. He never was. Shiro was always there, and Shiro was his brother. Keith knew what family felt like, if only a small part of it. A family felt warm. So blessedly warm. He let himself be pulled into a loving embrace.

Keith didn’t know when he started crying, or when he fell asleep, but Shiro’s words followed him into his peaceful slumber.

“We’ll figure this out.” “I’m right here.” “We can get through this.” “It will be okay.”

-

Job hunting was awful. Keith had searched all over the internet and on foot for a place that was hiring. Almost every position seemed to be taken up by sad college students. Why do I live in a college town? So now, Keith laid across the couch at a loss for what to do. Shiro had gone to grab some groceries, offended by the measly ramen and grilled cheese the kitchen had to offer. 

Keith stared out the window, the sun casting shadows over the city. It was barely mid-day and he was ready to go to bed. The more time he spent in this stuffy apartment alone, the more his head threatened to split. 

A grunt was all he could manage. He needed out. Looking over to his phone, abandoned on the floor, he decided leaving for a little while might help him clear his head. In one fluid motion, he glided off the couch, scooped up his phone, and stopped a foot short of the bedroom door.

Keith heaved a large breath. He hadn’t been into his bedroom since the breakup almost three days ago. The memories associated with the space he used to share so openly were painful. But the world wouldn’t wait for him to mourn his lost relationship. Instead of waiting to open this door until he was forced to, he’d do it on his own terms. And right now, Keith wanted to go to the gym, and his clothes were on the other side of this door. 

With gritted teeth, Keith placed his hand on the familiar metal knob. He closed his eyes for just a moment, steeling himself for the salt he was about to pour into his open wound. When he opened his eyes next, he was standing in the middle of the room. 

Posters and picture frames littered the walls, each bringing stinging memories. His eyes swept the room, landing safely on a duffle bag at the foot of the bed. The rug itched under his feet and the pictures burnt holes in his skin. Despite the dead weight in his legs, Keith trudged forward, reaching out for the bag as soon as he was close enough. His fingers curled around the strap, pulling it in towards himself and turning back to the door. 

He only closed the door once he was safely in the hallway. Keith stood frozen for a moment, collecting his frayed nerves, slowly returning them to their tight bundle. When he felt he had a better hold on himself he stared at the bag he was subconsciously clutching to his chest. Gym. Yeah, that’s what he needed. He nodded firmly. He needed to run the track until his boy problems were far far away. 

Keith’s motorcycle made short work of the drive to the gym. He sped into the locker room, eager to lose himself in his routine. Keith tied his shoes, much tighter than necessary after changing into a black tank top. He couldn't remember where he got it but just hoped it wasn’t James’. Keith pulled his fingerless gloves on and made his way to the other side of the gym. 

He stared daggers at the track. It was crowded. Too many people going far too slow for Keith’s tastes. He whipped around, finding that the treadmills were empty. He grumbled his complaints low under his breath while setting his things at the farthest treadmill. He slipped his wireless earbuds in and input his 12-mile goal into the machine. Keith started a slow jog, letting himself slip into a clearer mindset. In this state, Keith didn’t have to worry about finding a job or a new apartment. He could forget about his awkward encounter with Lance and how his tan skin was ingrained in his memory. 

As he ran, slowly rising to a more challenging speed, he caught glimpses of his red compression pants. They were a deep red, his favorite color, with short basketball shorts over top. Keith forced his eyes up ahead, training on the TV but not focusing. James had always teased him about these pants. He would poke at him at every opportunity, always finding a way to mention his ‘meggings’, as he called them. His step faltered, his stomach swooping as he gripped the machine and evened out his stride again. Keith shook his head lightly, he came here to forget about all this, so James' memories could bug off. He let himself zone out, training his eyes on a blank spot on the wall, never letting his thoughts become fully coherent.

-

A shrill tone played out from the treadmill, making Keith flinch despite the music playing in his ears. He searched for the cause of the noise, finally noticing the marker on the screen reminding him he only had a mile left. His nose scrunched up tightly. Those 11 miles had gone by too fast. There wasn’t nearly enough burning in his calves. The dull ache throbbing under his skin was doing nothing to combat his busy thoughts. Keith raised his eyes to watch his progress on the machine. 

Movement in his peripheral caused Keith’s head to shoot up. Climbing the last steps of the stairs, a group of four women wandered onto the second floor. Their mouths were moving, talking with large smiles or teasing smirks. Keith couldn’t hear anything due to his totally edgy and manly music that was most definitely not country, but he watched curiously anyways. They all seemed to have stopped a few steps away from the banister chatting idly. The largest of the group was waving towards the bench press, an almost feral grin on her face. She seemed to be challenging the quietest of the group. This one was wearing a jacket with the hood up, shading the top half of her face, but her mouth was visible, displaying the slight smile she held towards her friend. While those two argued, another stood arms crossed and tapping their foot looking positively bored. And if Keith wasn’t confused enough by the group dynamic, the fourth woman had bright pink hair that was in a very high ponytail. Keith almost winced, thinking it must be painful with how tight it was pulled up. Said pink-haired girl leaned into the railing and spoke wildly to someone Keith guessed was climbing the stairs. The woman’s energy was evident by her bouncing on her toes, waiting restlessly for the person to reach them. Keith watched on, feeling mildly amused. People-watching was a fun pastime and Keith couldn't deny he was curious to see what other odd personality was going to join the group. 

Keith didn’t have time to prepare himself. Beautifully tan skin strode off the last step and up to their waiting friends. Keith’s jaw went slack, bordering on gaping, when he recognized the curly brown hair and long limbs. Their eyes swept the room, and before Keith could so much as breathe, blue eyes met his. And then he was on the floor.

His ankle had been swapped with jello. Lance? His shoe caught on the foot rail. Why is- His arms lurched forward, grasping for purchase. Is he- His body succumbed to gravity and his nose slammed into the tread. What- The tread dragged him to the floor and his hand grasped at his stinging nose. Uninvited tears pricked against the back of his eyelids. Whether from embarrassment or pain, he didn’t know. What he did know was he was sprawled out on the floor with a bloody nose, hot embarrassment, and the group of women walking towards him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 Thank you so much for reading <3
> 
> Please take a moment to tell me what you think of it and mention any criticisms! I'm here so I can improve as a writer and share my stories!
> 
> I hope quarantine is treating you well and that my story could bring some laughter to your day! 
> 
> I'm always down to chat, and my comments are open! 
> 
> <3 Have a lovely day <3


	5. Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Lance stumbles through his busy life he can't help but be in the right place at the right time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 Good morning, good afternoon, or good evening <3
> 
> Hello dear reader! Boy do I have an announcement for you! 
> 
> !IMPORTANT! !PLEASE READ THIS ANNOUNCEMENT! IMPORTANT!
> 
> If you couldn't tell already, I am a huge fan of cliff hangers! But because this story has POV switches AND cliffhangers, you guys miss out on some hilarious scenes. I felt bad when I realized none of you got to really see drunk Keith or the entire gym charade! 
> 
> SO I decided I will make them bonus chapters! But how can you convince me to write these bonuses chapters? Easy. Vote. Down in the comments I will post a comment where you can reply and tell me what scene you would like to see (ex. "Between chapter 1 and 2" or "After Keith fell."). If there is a particular scene that gets around 5 votes, I will give you the bonus chapter you were hoping for!
> 
> Thank you for choosing my story! And the voting comments don't mean you can't leave a regular comment also, so please do! I will have another little announcement in the end notes, so look for that!
> 
> <3 Please enjoy <3

Lance hummed to himself, tapping the steering wheel in time with the radio. He cycled through colors, mentally starting his Visual Communications homework. When he finally made a decision he chanted it, desperate to not forget it.  _ Cornflower blue, cornflower blue, cornflowering in blue, blue of the cornflower, what type of blue? Cornflower. No wonder the sky’s all gray today, the (cornflower) blue is all in your eyes!  _ Slowing to a stop, he winked at himself in the mirror. Lance shifted his feet, his left foot moving to hold the brake while he leaned into the passenger seat. His fingers nabbed a stack of sticky notes and then continued on their search for a pen. When he had finally grasped the utensil his phone shook, vibrating against the cup-holder. The Little Einsteins' theme reverberated around the car along with Lance’s shriek. Gripping the pen between his teeth he reached for the device.

"What the heck, Rachel!" He yelled, jamming his thumb into the speaker button. Lance turned back to the road in time to hear the honk from behind his car, reminding him of the now green light. His arms shot out to the steering wheel and he pressed into the pedal hoping to make up for lost time. The engine revved… but his car didn’t move.

Lance’s second shriek entered the car as he rushed to pull his left foot off the brake he had forgotten about. Blue, as he so fondly called his vehicle, shot forward. After a moment of silence, Rachel’s meek voice bled from his phone. 

_ “Bad time?” _ Lance sighed, rubbing his face, 

“No- no it’s fine. I just- A lot happened at once.” He let the tension roll out of him along with a steady breath of air, “What’s up Rach?”

Nothing seemed to happen for a moment and the corner of his lip twitched upward.  _ She forgot, didn’t she? _ He waited patiently, the silence feeling comfortable and safe. _ “OH! I remembered! Okay, so you won’t believe what happened at work today!” _

“Shoot, musta been pretty insane if I won’t be able to believe it!” He chided, interest peaking. 

_ “Shut up jerk, you know what I meant. So today the girls came b-”  _

“The Generals? You mean the Generals cause those girls are like-”

_ “An evil warlord’s son’s generals who are helping in his quest to take over the universe, yes I know. You always make sure to remind me. NOW AS I WAS SAYING” _ Lance clamped his jaw shut, knowing she would have his head if he kept it up.  _ “My friends came by so we could hang out a little and have some plank offs or something ya know? Well, they went ahead of me so I could clock out, but get this- Do you know a guy named Keith?” _

Lance’s foot stuttered on the pedal, “K-Keith? Like emo dude with a mullet Keith? Yeah, I know him.” He bit his lip during the too-long silence, hoping his twin wouldn’t ask.

_ “Huh… okay,” _ He blew out a sigh of relief,  _ “Well Keith was on the treadmill and right when I caught up to the girls,” _ Lance stopped himself from correcting her, too invested in this story to risk getting hung up on,  _ “he like, tripped or something, cause when I looked over his nose was making out with the tread and he got rolled off onto the floor.”  _

He shrieked for the third time that day, his stomach doing somersaults, “Is he okay?!” He turned into a neighborhood. 

Rachel laughed on the other end of the phone, remembering the moment clearly,  _ “Yeah, yeah he’s fine just-” _ She giggled,  _ “just listen.” _ She waited and he nodded. Despite them being miles away she seemed to know because she continued,  _ “I ran over to see if he was okay because I’m noble like that, and his nose was bleeding so I helped him sit up and Ezor ran to get him a tissue. But he like, made eye contact with me and just whispers,” _ Lance was leaning towards his phone now, grasping onto every detail like his life depended on it,  _ “‘Lance?’” _

“Yeah I’m here Rach, what’d he say?” He waited. And waited. Wondering if the volume got lowered, he reached to turn it up.

_ “NO YA DOOFUS THAT'S WHAT HE SAID! HE SAID YOUR NAME!” _ Lance winced, trying to readjust the volume to a less painful one. As he did, her words set in. He pressed the brake a little too hard before shifting into park. “Wait what!? He thought-”

_ “Yeah, he thought I was you! I had to try so hard not to laugh while I told him. And I can’t tell you how relieved he looked. Like his cheeks were instantly not red anymore and he just seemed mildly embarrassed and maybe a little mad at himself. Well, long story short I pointed him towards the bathroom and then saw him drive away on a motorcycle like not even five minutes later.” _

Out of that whole spiel, Lance gathered two things, one being much more important than the other. One: Keith was afraid Lance had seen him fall. Two: Keith drives a motorcycle. “KEITH DRIVES A MOTORCYCLE?!” He shrieked for the who-knows-how-manyth-time. 

-

Lance was ultimately ignored and the twins continued on with gentle small talk. Lance listened to his sister ramble on about her day while he strode into the house. Upon noticing the half-empty driveway Lance remembered Hunk had a date with Shay and wouldn’t be home till late. Lance pinned the phone against his cheek with his shoulder. Mumbling his distaste for the coworker Rachel was describing, he struggled to pull his shoes off and waddle towards the desk set up in the front room. He shoved his backpack into his desk chair and started towards the kitchen. Lance ruffled through the fridge looking for leftovers. He told Rachel about how he met Keith, leaving out basically every detail except that he helped him escape Nyma. His spaghetti was finished in the microwave by the time he had mentioned dropping Keith off.

Rachel laughed loudly in his ear,  _ “I didn’t know you were into the bad boy vibe!” _ Lance dropped his fork back into the bowl.

“Who said I like him? Yes, I think he’s cute, but he’s probably a jerk or something.” By the end of his statement, his confidence had melted into a quiet mumble. He could hear his sister snickering but decided to give up the fight. “I’ll talk to you later okay Rach? I’ve got work to do.” He smiled, hearing Rachel’s spluttering cut off by the dial tone.

Lance carried his bowl over to the desk. While slurping up a large forkful of pasta he opened his project. He had written the outline of his assignment, finishing the essay portion early on, but next came his favorite part. Nothing was more refreshing than starting a fresh canvas on his tablet. 

He re-read the prompt, "What connects you to nature? Make a visual representation of this connection and then explain its meaning."  _ Easy. _ Lance pulled out his stylus and began experimenting with shapes and colors. He filled the page with color schemes and sketches in time to realize how much time had passed. 

He stretched out his long limbs, revelling in the satisfying pop in his lower back. He walked to the kitchen, empty bowl in hand. Lance dropped it in the sink before spinning around the room, registering all the colors around him. Lance found that the fluorescent green digital clock on the stove felt out of place. He stared at numbers while the minutes slowly passed. 

The cuban blinked a few times before turning tail and sprinting down the hall. Whether this was because it's such a hideous color or he was two hours late for work, he'll never tell. 

-

Lance stumbled in through the back door of the restaurant already spilling excuses, “Coran I’m so sorry! I completely forgot I had Rolo’s shift today! I can stay late to make up for it! Or I can-” He stared quizzically at the empty break room. While fastening his name tag he wandered into the kitchen. 

Lance lept to the side, barely missing a busser boy. “Oh! Sorry Lance! What are you doing back here? They need you on the floor, it’s busy tonight!” He didn’t have time to respond as the kid was rushing off to empty his cart.  _ Busy?  _ Since when was Cafe de Lion busy? 

He stumbled through the kitchen and danced his way to the waiters station. “LANCE! Thank goodness you’re here!” Lance paused. He’d never heard that voice so high pitched before. 

“Kinkade?” He breathed.

“Can you take my table?” His coworker’s eyes were wide and frantic, constantly flitting away.

Lance’s jaw dropped, “Ryan, The Ryan Kinkade needs  _ me _ , to take his table? They must be pretty bad to scare you off!” He attempted a joke, but Ryan’s face only lost more color, “Woah man calm down! You go take care of the line, I’ve got your table.”  Kinkade's shoulders dropped and he pointed to the table map on the counter. His finger landed on table 9, a two-person seat in the corner. 

“Thanks man, I owe you one. I’ll explain later.” Kinkade mumbled before trudging towards the front of the restaurant. 

Lance shook his head. It was going to be a long shift. He spun around and grabbed a notebook on his way towards his borrowed table. He put on his most welcoming grin and looked up at the two gentlemen he would be serving. 

“Hello, I’m Lance and I’ll be your waiter toni-” 

The man on the right, with a familiar white tuft of hair, stood up and stuck his hand out to shake, “Hello there Lance, It’s nice to finally meet you properly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 Thank you for reading <3 
> 
> As always, please leave me a comment, constructive criticism is welcome and I love to hear your thoughts on where this adventure is going! 
> 
> If you didn't see the announcement in the beginning notes, please go read that now! 
> 
> Now, for my other little announcement... I have a pretty important birthday coming up on the 8th! Yay me! I won't specify how old I am, but I will say, the world is getting a lot bigger for me. Because of my special day, I will be posting the first chapter of a BRAND NEW STORY on the 8th! I've been plotting it out for a while now and it will be waaay different than most things you've seen! I'll only give you one hint, 'Interactive'
> 
> I love talking to you in the comments!
> 
> <3 Have a lovely day <3

**Author's Note:**

> <3 Thank you for reading! <3
> 
> Please Please Please tell me what you think of it! Constructive criticism is very welcome and encouraged. 
> 
> If it isn't obvious enough- this is the first time I've shared my stories online. That doesn't not mean I want your pity, just your understanding and patience. Go ahead and rip me apart, and go crazy with criticism, it helps a bunch, and a few mistakes being pointed out won't hurt me. Pease just be sure to tell me what I did right also!
> 
> I honestly don't have much of a plan for this, but I would like to see what you all think of it. If people enjoy this and let me know in the comments, I will make sure to get an update out soon! 
> 
> <3 Have a wonderful day! I look forward to hearing from you in the comments! <3


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